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In Come the Roaches
Ailith is making her way from the broad direction of the landing field, watching her step and keeping an eye out for - well, anything. Nixkamich hears and detects movement and gipes his shotgun a little tigher, but eases on his grip as he watches Ailith enters and gives her a wave as he comes in visual distance. Ailith offers a slight bow to Nix as she approaches. "You appear to be working," she says. Nixkamich nods. "For the moment. My shift is almost at its end good too. Has been a long day." Nix notes shifting his weight against the column. "Seen or heard from Rillitan yet?" Ailith shakes her head, keeping back enough to block neither the Casino entrance, nor any move Nix might make defending said. "I had actually come looking for signs of a dismembered Timonae," she replies dryly. "Or perhaps his arm, at least." Nixkamich quirks an eyebrow at her. "What do you want of his arm? I remember it being blown off and then being dragged back to Darya's lab along with the rest of his body, however that was the last I saw of him. Alive at least. I cannot say what may of happened to his remains." Nix says with a shrug. Ailith blinks at this, and stares at Nix. "...Rillitan's arm," she says. "And body. Dragged into whose lab? When was this?" Nixkamich thinks for a moment, then laughs. "My apologizes. I was thinking of a Vollistan that had his arm blown off a week or so previous. It sounded familar to what you said." Nix says apologectially, although with a slight smirk. From further down the Strand, there comes a rumbling and the heavy droning of repulsors, mostly drowning out some other noises: The sounds of wings buzzing, mandibles clacking. Shotgun held casually in hand, Arnassis navigates the maze of broken cars and debris as he heads towards the inhabited areas -- where the Twin Moons and Warren are. Ailith accepts this explanation, though with a bit of puzzlement. "...Rillitan has a cybernetic arm," she explains. "If someone has killed him, I would presume that parts of that arm would be for sale. That's all. What is this about a Vollistan? I would not think they would be seen around here." At the sound of the noise, however, her hand reaches for her shotgun and she starts looking for cover. Nixkamich looks like he was about to respond to Ailith, but then hears the sound as well, bring his own shotgun down from off his shoulders and into both hands, loading a slug into the chamber with a classic 'cli-clak' sound. Slowly he makes his way near Ailith, crouching slightly. "Whatever that is, I do not belive it is good. Any idea what it is?" he says looking up and around the area, looking for the source of the noise. Marcuccilli steps outside the Warren, accompanied by a bodyguard and a few musclebound hirelings. The latter begin to lift shipping crates off of a pallet in front of the wrecked skyscraper and carry them into the Warren's entryway, while Marcuccilli negotiates quietly with a black-furred Demarian who watches over the pallet. The Don's bodyguard looks down the Strand, tilts his head, and mutters into his commlink. The rumbling grows louder, coming from the direction of the landing field. Anyone who looks down that way would be able to see large cargo vehicles maneuvering past bombed-out hovercars. Interspersed with these cargo trucks are Odarites in colored tabards, marching in perfect synchronicity with dealbreakers strapped to their backs. Other less militant-looking Odarites are pushing cargo mules. Murovny steps out of the Twin Moons, flanked by two guards in suits. "What the hoop is all this racket?" He frowns as he looks toward the source of the commotion, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a commlink of his own. As the rumbling approaches, Arnassis doesn't really look back. Where he does look is behind a hovercar with its nose crushed against the empty face of a building, forming a wedge. And, quietly, the Lunite ducks under there, crouched behind the rear repulsor well. He flicks the shotgun's safety off and frowns, peeking out at the approaching Odarites. Ailith frowns, shotgun ready in her hands. "It seems you are about to need my help," she says quietly, mostly to Nix, but points at the approaching Odarites for Murovny's benefits. "They are the racket." She moves to use a broken down car for cover. Following behind Ailith, Nix crouches behind the car as well taking cover. "And I gladly accept it." Nix memtions back her, taking a look over the hood at the oncoming Odarites. "Ironic that I had only seen one since yesterday." The rest of Marcuccilli's bodyguards emerge from the Warren, and two more humans toting assault rifles follow. Marcuccilli sights Murovny emerging from the casino and calls across the street. "Well, hello, neighbor! Invited some houseguests, did you?" Ren Arnassis watches from his position behind the hovercars, frowning. "They are no guests of mine," Murovny calls back, muttering into his commlink. He looks at Nixkamich. "I doubt any shots will be fired, unless *some* people make a stupid move. Nontheless, be on your guard." Ailith looks amused at this. "Indeed, I habitually take potshots at large groups of four-armed, armored beings without a squadron at my back," she says lightly. "You can tell this by the fact that I am a goddess reborn to the mortal realm." She shakes her head, and returns her attention to the approaching swarm. "Uninvited. Interesting," she murmurs, more seriously. Nixkamich looks back to his employer and nods. "I would rather avoid such sir, especially in light of these new 'develoupments'." Nix says in agreement with Murvny. Then looking back to Ailith as well as out at the oncoming larg group he smirks, "You are? I would wonder what you'd be doing here then." he remarks to her sarcastically. "I don't suppose they'll do anything untoward, so long as our friends across the street don't," Marcuccilli remarks to the guard next to him, and watches as the Odarites continue along the street. The cargo vehicles loom closer, dust clouds frothing in their wake. The interspersed marchers begin to spread out in perfect form, encircling the cargo vehicles as they approach the Aurora Strand. A singular, awful scraping noise can be heard as the over 100 of them unsheath their dealbreakers in unison, presenting the night-colored arcs of stone before them as they march. Side doors in three of the most forward cargo vehicles slide up and out of sight, and dozens upon dozens of insectoids can be seen within, mandibles snapping, wings flittering in anticipation. "This ain' gonna be good," Arnassis mutters from his hidden position. "Then again," Marcuccilli adds, "I've been wrong before." Murovny scowls deeply, muttering into his commlink again. Ailith sighs quietly, and says, "I hope common cause is not unheard of." Nixkamich flips off the saftey. Touching his wolf teeth necklace he makes a silent prayer to the Great Spirits. "Indeed." Nix simply agrees with Ailith. The Warren's entourage ducks behind the concrete barriers surrounding the entryway, and Marcuccilli instructs one of his guards: "Perhaps you should have some of our men set in the second-floor utility corridors with rifles. Plenty of broken windows on this side, yes? Have someone see about digging that rocket-propelled grenade thing out, too." The cargo vehicles maneuver towards a narrow, deep field in the wreckage, probably what used to be a broad road between skyscrapers, their guardians keeping in step to encircle their precious cargo. As the entirety of the caravan arrives, the entire operation stops like clockwork, the only sound for a brief moment being the low buzz of the cargo vehicles' hovergenerators. And then, like a dry dandelion head releasing its legion seeds into the night air, the first three cargo vehicles explode with inky insectoids pouring out to fill the field. Murovny holds up a hand to signal to his guards, who seem to be reaching for their guns. "Nyet. Let us see where this is going, da?" Ailith looks out at the swarm, then at anyone that might try doing anything about it. She shakes her head slightly. "Ocelot, hm?" she murmurs. "Lynx." Nix corrects, looking back at Muronvy for a moment then at the surronding swarm, noting increase in darkness in the area. "When this is over, we shall drink to this." he adds. Arnassis' eyes reflect the inky surge of Odarites with deadly intent. The Lunite adjusts his grip on his shotgun, raising it warily to a position where he can fire on the approaching horde. "Knew it," he grumbles, much the same as someone would mutter about bad weather on the day of a parade. The guardian Odarites spread out to encircle an area about the size of two football fields placed end to end as the unarmed bugs within begin to surge towards any obstacle within that radius, picking up hovercars, steel girders, and rubble and forcefully tossing said objects out of this radius with a good deal of force. A singular Odarite in a white tabard slides out of the backmost cargo vehicle, slowly surveying the cleansing of the site. Ren Arnassis's brows knit as he watches the Odarites at work, confused. Ailith looks at Nix. "...Do you have *any* idea what they are doing?" Nixkamich shakes his head. "I do not. A guess might that they're preparing for something. What, I could not say.." the Qua says, still watching the Odarite's intently. It doesn't take long for the site to be cleared, and it is then that several larger hovervehicles begin to roar down the same way that the smaller cargo vehicles came a few minutes before, this time defended by a smaller contingent of guardian Odarites. A few of these larger vehicles have structural beams tied down to the tops of them with industrial cables, while some resemble dump trucks filled to the brim with charcoal-colored bricks. The Odarites at the construction site begin to open up the aft few cargo vehicles, unhousing hundreds of construction tools, from jackhammers to sealant mixers to arc welders. These are laid out in precise order across the site, each participant doing their job as if it were a dance they had prepared for a hundred times before. The Odarite in the white tabard clacks his mandibles, nodding slowly. After a moment, he begins to head towards the assembled gawkers, antennae high. Ren Arnassis chuckles. "They're movin' in," he says to himself, amused. Murovny quirks a brow as the bugs start construction. "How about that." The Ungstiri's gaze turns to the Odarite in the white tabard. "This one looks important," he mutters to Nixkamich as he steps forward, offering the insectoid a nod. "Welcome to Tomin Kora. I am Murovny Ksechev, owner of the Twin Moons Casino." He gestures to the building. Ailith simply watches this display, murmuring, "Your neighborhood does not seem to be improving. Friends of your acquaintance the other day?" Nixkamich snorts in response, though watching Muronvy and the incoming Odarite, keeping a close eye on the two. "I'd rather hope not." he says absently to Ailith. The larger vehicles arrive to the construction site, and the various construction Odarites break up to do a myriad of jobs, whether it be digging into the dusty earth, creating plascrete, offloading bricks in preparation, or welding the structural supports together. The guardians stand motionless, dealbreakers at the ready. The Odarite in the white tabard dips his head low to Murovny, his claws clacking together. "Ik thank you fkor your welcome," he says. The Odarite turns towards the proferred building, sizing it up before bobbing his triangular head. "Ik am Rk'ykk'tk, Journeyman okf the Odarite Mkerchants Guild." He gestures towards the building site. "Ykou will bke hearing much noise for the next wkeek. Fkor that, I akpologize." Ren Arnassis remains concealed, watching. "Noise is not new out here. It will just be construction instead of gunfire." Murovny grins. "So the Guild is moving back in? Interesting. Perhaps we can make some business arrangements." Ailith relaxes a bit. "Hm. Rather an official presence. One wonders why." "Oppurtunity I would surmise. Or at least to them they see such." Nix says, still looking over at the two conversing. The digging Odarites continue to dig until well out of sight, and as the metal frames are finished, others move to join them. Foundation frames are set up on the edges of the dig site, and tubes are disconnected from the plascrete machines, beginning to fill the nascent foundation. Rk'ykk'tk looks Murovny over for a moment, bobbing his head. "Ikt is most certainly ak possibility, Mkister Ksechev. Whkat do you have in mkind?" "Weapons. Supplies." Murovny glances to the swarm of workers. "I'm willing to supply what I can in turn. Cargo hauling, smuggling and salvage are some ventures I run besides my establishment." Ailith simply watches, waiting. Nixkamich watches as well, although he stands up at this point from his hiding point behind the trashed vehicle, feeling as the situation has dissolved somewhat. Several Odarites begin to erect aluminum, telescoping poles around the work site, pushing them into the ground and extending the poles more than twenty feet in the air. Other Odarites begin draping thousands of feet of thin white plastic tarp over these poles and securing them, effectively hiding most of the Odarites' work from view. Silouhettes can be seen working behind it occasionally, but for the most part, there is no longer much movement seen. "Ckash will be sufficient," the Odarite replies, shaking his head. "Wke are mkore than adequately rkepresented in ckargo hauling and skalvage. Ik will let you know ikf something skpecial arises, hkowever. Ik will have a rkepresentative come to assess ykour weaponry nkeeds. Wkill that be skufficient?" "I thought as much, but it was worth a shot, da?" Murovny nods. "That will be fine. Thank you, Journeyman." Ailith lets Nix go alone, simply watching the unfolding of events. Nixkamich simply views the discussion, sliding his shotgun into its holster behind his shoulder. Takes a glance at the Odarites working, noting their speed in building. The Odarite bobs his head, his antennae spreading apart. "Wke will be seeing much more of each other." He skitters back towards the work site for a few dozen feet before turning. He calls out in a booming tone, "Thke Odarite Mkerchants Guild has returned to Tkomin Kora! Bkusiness wkill begin ikn three weeks!" With that, he turns around suddenly, his tabard billowing, and begins to hop back towards the work site. Category: Classic Underworld logs